


The Measure of a Vai

by Seiberwing



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Crossdressing, Desert, Gen, Gender, Gender Roles, Gerudo Culture, Gerudo Link, Nonsexual Crossdressing, Referenced Heterosexual Relationship, Trans Female Character, Trans Positivity (Sort Of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 12:39:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16284770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seiberwing/pseuds/Seiberwing
Summary: By Hylian standards, a voe isn't exactly a man, a vai isn't exactly a woman, and a man who desperately needs to get into Gerudo City doesn't exactly know what's going on.(Or: 2,500+ words of musing about Gerudo gender politics.)





	The Measure of a Vai

“You don’t understand. My brother is sick—”

“And he most certainly isn’t inside Gerudo City.”

“No, I’m looking for Malena!”

“Malena is your brother?”

“No, she’s married to—look, would you just let me in?”

Medlo wasn’t used to feeling short. He came nearly to the height of your average horse, and even among men loomed fairly large. Looking up at a woman—looking way, way up—felt unsettling.

It wasn’t as unsettling as the looks the Gerudo City guards both gave him for raising his voice.

“We stand here all day and take care to keep voe and other intruders out of our city. What makes you think you are special?” said the one on the left. They wore dark masks over the lower halves of their faces that only served to accentuate what sharp features remained in view. Small sapphire shards were embedded in their breastplates, keeping them from boiling to death inside the gold-colored armor they wore over bright cloth.

Medlo’s shoulders dropped. “Please?” he whispered, feeling himself wither under glares hotter than the desert sun at noon. “I just need to get a message to Malena.”

“So write her a letter.”

“It’ll take too long.” 

“Wad it up and throw it over the wall. Maybe she’ll catch it.”

Medlo huddled unto himself. His feet felt unsteady on the well-trodden sand. 

The guard on the right leaned in very, very close, until the mask hanging from her face was nearly touching his nose. “Listen, little voe,” she said softly. “Here’s my advice. You go back to Kara Kara Bazaar. You find a Gerudo named Vilia. And she’ll tell you exactly what I told you—there are no voe allowed in Gerudo City.”

“That…”

Medlo stared at her. The Gerudo stared back, like a stern mother horse needing her child to Get His Act Together.

“Vilia?” he asked weakly, receiving a nod in reply.

“At Kara Kara.”

“Okay. Vilia at Kara Kara.” Medlo repeated it like an incantation. “Thank you.” He backed away slowly, head bowed, still looking quite baffled as he slipped away into the desert.

The guard on the left thumped her spear against the sand. “You’re a soft heart, Dorrah,” she snorted.

“Shut up, Merina.”

\--

Medlo had made his journey in early evening, hoping to cross when the day’s heat was at its lowest. He made it halfway down the trail before the chill began seeping into his bones.

“Hot or cold, make up your mind,” he muttered to the uncaring sands. The sands replied with a howl of wind that spat grit into his face. Something grunted on the far side of a dune and he walked faster, mind full of images of monsters with long claws and dripping fangs.

When he made it back to the oasis he immediately shoved his way into the inn and stuffed himself under several piles of blankets. His breath seemed to grow chill as soon as it left his mouth. 

“Found out about the desert chill, did you?” said a deep female voice from outside his nest. 

Medlo stuck his hand out from under the blankets and waved a fistful of rupees at whoever was speaking. “Here’s my fee for the night,” he grumbled. “I’ll give you twenty extra if you bring me a cup of tea. A kettle of tea. Actually, just pour boiling water over my head.”

“That’s not going to help once you dry off.”

“I’ll just walk off into the desert and die, then.”

He sulked into the blankets for a while. Eventually a sun-darkened hand slipped inside, grabbed his wrist, and pulled it out to put a warm mug in his hand.

Medlo sat up inside his cocoon and sniffed it. The liquid was pale and thick, with little flecks floating in it, and something about it tickled his nose.

“What is this?”

“Spicy milk. That’s not a euphemism, drink up. It’ll make life a little more liveable for a while.”

Medlo took a delicate sip. ‘Spicy milk’ did seem to cover it. Each sip left a long burn that went down his throat and into his stomach, then spread out to the rest of his body. Medlo worked his way to the bottom of the cup and eventually the blankets began to seem far too warm. 

“I don’t suppose you know someone named Vilia?” he said, poking his head out from the blanket pile. His tanned angel of mercy was standing at his bedside, one hand resting lightly at her hip. By her looks she wasn’t Gerudo, her hair was far too pale, and a thick yellow cloak hung around her shoulders.

“The Gerudo? Yeah, she hangs out around here. Trades in cloth and clothing. Likes to stargaze, this time of night, she’s probably up on the roof.”

“She’s not freezing her…her fingers off?”

The woman shrugged. “She’s Gerudo. They’re more durable, I don’t know.”

-

The purple-clad figure at the top of the inn’s tower didn’t respond to his shouting, so Medlo was forced to walk up the long, chilly stairs with one of the blankets still curled around his shoulders. His belly was still warm, but he could feel the cold starting to bite at the tips of his ears.

“Vilia?” he shouted again, one story down. The woman in purple rolled her eyes and stepped to the edge to look down at him.

“Yes, what? Do I owe you money? What gives?” Her voice was shrill. Behind her, the bright moon backlit ruddy hair bound in a loose ponytail.

“I got told to find you by one of the guards.”

Vilia gave him a flat look. “Of course they did. Find me for what?”

“To…I’m not sure.” Medlo sank down into his blanket. “She said you’d tell me that voe weren’t allowed in Gerudo City.”

“They’re not,” Vilia said dully. She was wearing a light cloak around her shoulders. Her outfit was the same abs-exposing style as the other Gerudos he’d seen but much more flamboyant, with gold thread worked into the rich purple of her trousers and veil. 

“I know that!”

“And yet, here we are.” Her eyes roamed over him, and seemed to meet with disappointment in what they found.

Medlo didn’t know if it was the spicy milk making his nerves sizzle or just the past twelve hours of physical and mental stress exploding in a final burst of energy. He wanted to start a fight with someone, anyone. Medlo threw the blanket from his shoulders and wrenched himself upward to the top platform, rising up to his full height that almost came close to matching Vilia’s.

“My brother is sick, all right? He’s up at Gerudo Canyon Stable because he was stupid enough to try and make it out here to see his wife and child. His guts are trying to crawl out of his throat, he’s the color of a corpse, and there is a good chance he is going to die!” he shrieked.

Villia’s hand went to the little dagger hanging at her belt. Her eyes widened as Medlo stalked toward her, eyes aflame.

“And I’m trying to get into the city to get a message to his wife, because maybe she knows who to ask about a cure because it’s a desert disease, and maybe all she’ll get to do is see him before he dissolves into festering goo, and apparently that’s not damn well good enough for this stupid frigid desert full of frigid—”

A painted finger was abruptly pressed to his lips.

“You know, I’m gonna just stop you right there before you say something that’s going to make me like you less.” Vilia chuckled.

The steam coming out of Medlo’s metaphorical ears dissipated. His head drooped as the tension fled his body. 

“Your brother’s married to a Gerudo and he never told you that only vai get into Gerudo City?” 

“We don’t talk much…I live in Lurelin Village. I’ve only met his wife a handful of times.” Medlo’s eyes stung. He wondered if the milk had made his tears spicy too. “I didn’t think…I thought we’d have more time. He’s younger than me, his child’s barely two.” He’d thought Medlo had a son, but if it was in Gerudo City it had to be a daughter. How could he forget such a fact? He was the worst brother, and he was about to be an only child.

A huffed sigh made the purple veil hanging across Vilila’s face briefly flare up.

“Yeah, yeah, your life is hard. Bottom line, you need to get into Gerudo City and Dorrah sent you over to me. Again. What am I, the patron fairy of idiot voe? You’re not even cute.”

Medlo lifted his head, noticing on the way up that Vilia’s shoes had raised heels. Vilia was tall but clearly needed some help working her way up to Gerudo tall. “…cute?”

Vilia squinted at him. “You’re not cute. You’re rugged. Rugged is fine. If you like that sort of thing.” She leapt from the tower to the ground in one smooth motion, beckoning coyly at the man above her. “Come along, voe. Let’s see what can be done with you.”

\--

“I worked for months on this beard.”

“Do you want a beard, or do you want a brother?” 

“Fine. Fine.” 

“Don’t forget your chest and stomach. There’s hairy Gerudo, but you need to at least look like you’re trying.”

“I’m really not sure this is going to fool anyone.” Medlo reluctantly scraped the bone-handled razor along his chin, shearing off the last cluster of russet-colored hair. He peered into the full length, gold-edged mirror and noted how pathetic his exposed torso looked compared to the rippling muscles of the Gerudo. Sure, Medlo was no pudgy radish, but the Gerudo guards were like carved marble.

“Fooling isn’t the point,” said Villia from the other side of the folding screen. She tossed a pair of sand-colored pants over the edge of the screen. “Do you want bangles? It’s extra for bangles but they’re cheaper than you’ll get in the city.”

“I’m good on bangles, thanks. What do you mean fooling isn’t the point? I thought this was a disguise.”

Vilia laughed. “Maybe a few hundred years ago, yeah, you’d basically have to fool every vai in the city or get your ear cut off. These days almost no one actually gives a flying banana, but tradition is tradition. No voe in Gerudo City.”

Medlo wiped the shaving cream from his stomach and stepped into the sirwal. The loose fabric was light around his legs, tightening around his ankles. It was surprisingly comfortable in the warmth of Vilia’s insulated tent, but he worried for his future fertility the moment he’d step outside. “Why do the Gerudo hate men so much, anyway?”

Vilia tutted. “Not men, voe. And we don’t. They’re quite nice when they’re behaving and it’s a bit hard to make children without them. Like I said, it’s tradition.”

Her tone took on the pace of someone rattling off a tale spoken so frequently that it became dull. “The way my mother told me, there’s an old legend that the Calamity was started by a voe born to the Gerudo. A rare, once in a hundred years event. He took over as chief and nearly destroyed Hyrule in his quest for power. That was back in the time of Nabooru, supposedly – I’m not sure if it ever happened. There’s a lot of weird legends around Nabooru.”

She threw a gold belt over the screen. It was studded with jewels that a closer look revealed to be glass. 

“So because of that, Nabooru declared that there would never be a voe among the Gerudo People again, and because of their rash behavior, no voe could enter our greatest city. And for a good while, people were very uptight about it.”

Medlo buckled on the belt and inspected himself in the mirror. He sucked in a deep breath, but his gut was still hanging out like a full water skin. “What about now?”

“Nowadays the Gerudo are a little more relaxed about trade, because everything gets more relaxed when money’s involved, and nobody really thinks they’re going to pollute Gerudo City just by walking in the gate. You want to keep them away from the youth, of course, and be selective, but it’s not as if they’re all hiding the Calamity in their belt pouches. You decent?”

“Yes,” said Medlo, though he certainly didn’t feel like it. 

Vilia stepped in behind him and wrapped a long square of sand-colored cloth around his chest, folding it quickly and then tying it behind his neck. The breastband hung depressingly flacid around his chest until Vilia tucked in some rounded padding and sewed in with a few quick flicks of a needle. She stepped back, tilted her head as she inspected her work, then tugged the breastband about until it hung better on him.

Medlo stared at himself in the mirror. He might pass for a woman in a sandstorm, if you squinted. 

“You seem pretty familiar with this,” he said, tugging the belt up again. It was broad enough to make him look like he had wider hips than he actually did, accentuating the false hourglass figure given by the padded breastband.

“You’re not the first voe I’ve had to swap around. There’s this law that got passed a couple chiefs ago, see.” Vilia cleared her throat and put on a declaratory tone.

“‘Any person, of any lineage of peoples, who is dressing and acting in the manner of a vai, is to be considered a vai in the eyes of all judges and all laws, and entitled to all rights becoming of a vai as long as they comport themselves in such a fashion and maintain that they are a vai.’ Basically you can go right up to the gates in your voe clothes, strip down right in front of the guards, put on your vai clothes, and strut right into Gerudo City without anyone giving you trouble. Well, aside from the public nudity charge.”

“That’s…really?”

“Basically. The guards know it but they can’t say it outright. Breaks the rules. You get a lot of voe trying to break into the city because they don’t have the decency to ask what the actual law is.”

“That’s ridiculous. So everyone knows I’m a man, but if I put on my wife’s clothes, they’d think I was a woman?”

“Not woman, vai.”

“I thought that was the same thing.”

Virilia clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Vai is…mm. Okay. So to Hylians, a female woman is one set of anatomy, and a male man is another set of anatomy, yes?”

“Of course.”

“Voe and vai are more about the whole person. How you dress, act, think of yourself. All Gerudo are vai, so if you’re Gerudo, you’re vai. Because no voe are every born to the Gerudo since Ganon.”

“But…I thought Gerudo just couldn’t have male children.”

“We have what you’d call males who are vai. All Gerudo are vai, according to our law. If you say you’re vai, you dress like vai, you’re vai, and no one's going to give you trouble for being a little stubbly. It's pretty great.”

“But males and females are different! You can’t get a man pregnant.”

“Hylians have women who can get pregnant and women who can’t, and Gerudo have vai who can get pregnant and vai who can’t.”

The affair was making Medlo’s head hurt. He hadn’t slept since the previous night, and the spicy milk was starting to wear off.

“So are you…then what are you?” he asked weakly, looking Vilia over toe to ponytail. He felt a sudden and deeply uncharacteristic burst of jealousy for her how clothes were so much richer and brighter in hue than the ones he was wearing.

“I’m a vai,” Vilia said simply.

“You know what I mean!”

Vilia looked down her sharp nose at him. “Sweetcakes, if you want to see what my anatomy is up to, you’re going to need to be a lot less rugged than that. Now get going, the sun will be up in an hour—and tell my sister that next time the voe she sends me had better be a real looker.”


End file.
